


Breathing

by amusawale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, post-episode s14e03 The Scar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusawale/pseuds/amusawale
Summary: Dean Winchester gets back to the bunker after his confession to Sam and he can't sleep. Neither can Sam.





	Breathing

Dean lay on his bed after his second shower of the day, just staring at the ceiling, feeling like he’d never get clean. The usual nightly silence of the bunker was disrupted by the constant movement of all its currents residents. The Bunker was now like New York; a place that never slept.

There was always someone walking around at all hours, people going in and out.

It was…distressing.

Dean had always been the easy-going one. The one who didn’t care about whichever dump their father left them in. Whether the upstairs neighbors were fighting constantly; or fucking loudly. Whether there were drug deals going down on the other side of thin walls, loud music being played at all hours of the night…he’d accepted it all and tuned it out.

He had a kid to look after, after all.

A fussy one, wont to complain about every little thing. He had no time to worry about other people and their problems.

But now he was spoiled; the years in the soundproof bunker; just the two of them, had eroded his tolerance for outside disturbances. He wanted to throw everyone out so he could have his home back; just him and his brother – just for a while.

A soft knock on the door had him sighing with irritation.

_‘What now?’_

The knob turned and he looked toward the door without moving his head. Sam’s head appeared in the gap, and Dean relaxed again.

“Hey,” Sam said quietly.

“Hey Sam,” Dean said looking back at the ceiling.

“Can I come in?”

It was 1 am in the morning.

“Sure Sam,” Dean said.

Sam slipped into his room, closing the door behind him. He walked slowly toward the bed, watching Dean like he was expecting to be thrown out at any second. He came to a stop by the bed, looking down at Dean.

Sam sighed deeply, pursing his lips without making a sound.

Dean moved to the side, leaving space for Sam to sit or lie down. He huffed a little laugh as Sam folded himself into the small space.

“You know you used to do the same thing when you were five? You would get out of your bed, come stand by mine, and sigh.”

Sam smiled, “I did?” he moved his head to look up at Dean.

“Yeah,” Dean said grinning, “I used to pretend to be irritated but still move for you and you’d make this happy sound and jump in bed with me, curl yourself around me just like you’re doing now…”

They breathed in sync for a while.

“Why’d you stop?” Dean asked at last.

Sam snorted, “I figured I couldn’t get away with it when I was ten as easily as before.”

Dean turned his head, “So you _do_ remember.”

Sam shrugged.

Dean took a deep breath, “So what brings you back here today my boy?” his voice was deliberately light and chivvying but Sam knew it was a serious question.

Sam’s hand went to his chest and he rubbed hard, “There’s a…tightness…in here. Can’t get rid of it.” His voice was wet and choked.

“Because of what I told you.”

“Yeah.”

Dean laughed quietly, “Maybe you have sympathetic drowning.”

Sam took a deep breath, “Yeah, probably. It was hard to breathe – and not being able to see you was making it worse. And I feel like a fool saying this to you but…it keeps replaying in my head, what you said and…”

“And now you can’t breathe.”

“Well…now I can,” Sam reached out and put his hand flat against Dean’s chest, just over his heart.

Dean put his hand over Sam’s and they lay there, just breathing.

∞

Sam leaned closer, putting his chin on Dean’s shoulders and closed his eyes. Dean turned his head to look at Sam and Sam opened his eyes as he felt Dean move. He was confronted with twin emerald orbs like pools of a clear pond in which he could drown without any suffocating feeling.

Dean was always playing a role, always pretending that everything was wonderful, marvelous, there were no problems or if there were, their solution was just around the corner. Very rarely did he drop all his masks and just let Sam see him.

All his masks were down now.

All the pain, the suffering, the horror of his experience was there for Sam to read. Sam turned his hand over where it lay over Dean’s heart, clutching at Dean’s hand that covered his.

“Dean,” he mouthed.

Dean smiled but it was not a happy expression. It was filled with helplessness and fear. Sam felt his heart break as if it was a physical pain. He leaned in, unthinking, resting his lips on Dean’s. Dean’s lips were slightly chapped like maybe he was dehydrated. Sam made a mental note to make sure he drank more water.

Michael had had no need for food.

And now that Sam thought about it, Dean had not displayed his usual enthusiasm for food when he returned.

Sam’s lips moved against Dean’s; feeling, exploring and Dean’s lips parted just a bit. It was an invitation and Sam was in no position to refuse it. He sucked, tasting, questing, gauging. Dean leaned closer, his tongue answering Sam’s questions, reassuring him that Dean would be fine…eventually.

Sam’s hand left Dean’s chest to rest against his cheek, he pressed closer, wrapping his legs around Dean’s. Dean’s mouth was open, letting him in, letting him take the pain away.

He needed to.

For himself and for Dean, he needed to do _something._ It came down on him like a ton of bricks that he was _kissing_ Dean.

He jerked; leaning back, watching Dean watch him.

“Awkward,” he whispered.

Dean laughed.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“What?” Sam frowned.

“Do you feel better?”

“Uh…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I remember when you were a baby; you used to love it when I flicked your likkle dick about. It used to make you laugh. Until I got tired and stopped and then you’d have your bitch-face out until I started doing it again.”

Sam covered his face, “And you’re bringing this up now why?”

“I’m saying there’s nothing about you I haven’t seen. Nothing about you I don’t know. So there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Okay, first of all, I’ve grown a bit since you last,” Sam waved his hand in the air to indicate Dean flicking his dick, “And furthermore…” he stopped, unable to think of anything more.

Dean grinned, “Want me to flick your likkle dick now? Distract you from your sorrows.”

“ _No!_ ”

“You sure?” Dean leaned down, drumming at Sam’s crotch. Sam gasped, surprised to feel himself hardening. He tried to move away but Dean locked him in place.

“I’m kidding. Relax.” Unfortunately, with Dean being so close he couldn’t help but feel Sam’s arousal, “Oh.” He said and then grinned, “How long _has_ it been since you got laid, Sammy? Don’t tell me it was Piper? Or was her name April?”

“Who?”

“The chick from the Impala? The waitress?”

“Oh…uh…I think it was Piper.”

“Whatever. So? You been neglecting your needs, Sammy?”

“Uh…been kinda busy.”

Dean leaned down, gripping Sam through his jeans.

“I can help you out,” he said.

“N-” Sam began to say but he couldn’t seem to finish the word.

Dean’s eyebrows rose.

“I’ll just flick it back and forth like I did when you were a year old. I bet that would do it.”

Sam surprised himself by giggling and not lifting a hand to stop him when Dean freed his dick. He actually flicked it back and forth which was easy to do with how it was standing at attention. It made Sam laugh even more.

“Oh God, what are you doing to me?”

“What? Are you not having fun?”

Dean was grinning at him and Sam couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. It surprised him because he didn’t think he’d laughed like that for _years._

“Shit Dean, please tell me this is you and not…”

“It’s me,” Dean said, the grin disappearing for a moment.

Sam surged up to kiss him, mainly to distract him from the reminder of Michael but soon the kiss became an entity unto itself, enveloping them both and consuming them with passion.

“This is weird,” Sam said against Dean’s lips even as Dean wrapped his hand around Sam’s dick.

“I was just thinking it’s not weird enough,” Dean murmured as he bit Sam’s bottom lip and pulled at his dick.

There was a shout from somewhere in the bunker, the pipes carrying the sound clearly to Dean’s room.

“It’s like Sodom and Gomorrah out there,” Dean complained even as he continued to rub at Sam’s dick.

“I know Dean. I was glad of it when you weren’t here though. To be honest, I don’t think I could have stood the silence again. Not again. It was bad enough when you went off with Crowley.”

Dean’s pace increased on Sam’s dick; a deliberate distraction. Sam arched into it, clutching at Dean like he’d never let him go. He leaned forward, lips hard on Dean’s. He let _himself_ go, surrendering to Dean’s ministrations, spraying his cum all over Dean’s sleeping pants.

He stared at the mess he’d made as Dean lay back and let him, “You should get those off,” he said.

Dean made no move to comply so Sam pulled them off for him. He stared speculatively down at Dean’s dick.

“I am going to be really disappointed if you tell me this is the first dick you’ve seen in this context. Such a waste of that hair.”

Sam snorted.

“Are you saying…you’ve seen a lot of dick ‘in this context’?” Sam asked.

“I seem to remember you once saying I was ‘overcompensating’ for something with my ‘butchness.’”

“Yeah well, clearly I was wrong about what exactly you were hiding.”

“Oh really? And what exactly was I hiding?”

Sam looked him in the eye, “Fear.”

Dean looked away.

“You’ve been scared for a long time, haven’t you Dean?” Sam said taking Dean’s dick in hand, “Probably since you were four years old.”

Dean said nothing.

Sam bent over and swallowed him down.

Dean gave a long drawn out groan.

∞

Dean covered them with his blanket; Sam curled into his side, breathing evenly.

“Aren’t you scared of your little army out there finding out where you’re spending the night?” Dean murmured into his hair.

Sam just huddled closer, settling even more firmly into Dean’s side, a line of warmth from shoulder to ankle.

“I guess not,” Dean said, closing his eyes and letting his own breathing slow to match Sam’s.

 


End file.
